


dimples and crinkles

by waveydnp



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Phan, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: in honour of dnp's 8th friendiversary, here's my shamelessly soft, fluffy version of their first kiss





	dimples and crinkles

Phil’s mouth tastes like caramel and coffee and his heart is racing--has been since the moment he spotted Dan at the train station, tall and lean and shaggy-haired and beautiful. Has been since they locked eyes and walked a little faster and threw their arms around each other carelessly and squeezed.

Phil had sunk his teeth into Dan’s shoulder a little, too keyed up and nervous and desperate for some small outlet for the jittery excitement coursing through him. Dan had giggled and said “Hi Phil.”

He sounds different than he had on Skype. A little younger, a little softer. He looks the same though, mostly. The same warm dark eyes and pouty lips and long neck. The same but magnified, clarified. He has tiny little freckles dancing across his cheekbones and deep dimples and crinkles framing his eyes whenever Phil says something stupid or claws at Dan’s shirt childishly. Phil thinks it’s childish, the way he can’t stop rawring in Dan’s ear and biting his shoulder, but those dimples and those crinkles make him think maybe Dan doesn’t mind it so much. 

They laugh at the similarity of their green checkered shirts and bags slung over opposite shoulders. He thinks with a little surge of giddiness that they look like a couple already. People are probably looking at them and making that assumption. He’s too happy to be scared about that right now.

Phil keeps waiting for this feeling to subside--the butterflies, the shaky fingers, the goosebumps that erupt across his arms every time Dan’s skin brushes against his. It doesn’t. If anything it just gets worse as the day goes on, as he starts to wonder what this is, what they are.

He thinks he knows what  _ he _ wants, thinks he’s known for months. He’s already shared things with Dan that he’s never shared with anyone else. He’s stayed up all night on skype staring at Dan’s mouth and listening to him talk. He’s fallen asleep thinking about the way Dan shakes his soft brown fringe into his eyes when he’s trying to hide a smile, the little rosy patch that forms low on Dan’s cheek when Phil is too sleep-drunk to stop himself flirting a little. He knows the dreams he’s had, the scenarios he’s imagined. He knows they mean something--something more than just  _ I want to be your friend. _

And he knows that Dan likes him. There’s no way his anxiety-riddled brain could confuse that at this point. He has the youtube comments and twitter mentions and dailybooth posts to prove Dan has a place in his heart for Phil. You don’t travel across the country to meet someone you don’t like.

But they’ve technically just met and neither of them has been brave enough to ask any questions or make any statements. Everything is hazy still, rose-coloured and foggy with giggly uncertainty. But maybe for Dan, it  _ is _ just  _ I want to be your friend _ . Maybe that’s just how close Dan gets with his friends. 

He had just broken up with his girlfriend after all. Maybe Dan’s not even ready to think about Phil like that.

_ I hope he likes me _ , Phil thinks. He doesn’t care that Dan’s only recently single and four years younger and a little immature and lives 300km away. Phil doesn’t care that his parents don’t really understand him and it’ll be weird and hard and fucking terrifying to tell people he has a boyfriend. He doesn’t care. All he cares about is the irrepressible smile that spreads across his face when Dan plays guitar hero on Skype or posts a naughty picture on Dailybooth. All he cares about is the way Dan is looking at him right now. He wants Dan. He wants to tell people he has a boyfriend.

The sun shines through the glass of the cabin window as they rise slowly but steadily into the sky. Phil’s ridden the big wheel countless times, but it’s never felt like this. He’s never looked out over the view of Manchester and thought how romantic it is. Dan’s thigh is pressed tightly against his, even though there’s more than enough room for them occupy their own space. He doesn’t know if the hair on his arms is standing up because of the cool October air or because he can smell Dan’s cologne when he leans into his neck for another nervous nibble.

“You smell good,” Phil says.

Dan turns his head to look into Phil’s eyes. Their faces are nearly close enough to touch.

“How do I taste?” He asks, voice low. 

Phil’s heart thuds painfully. Dan’s eyes flit downward and Phil knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s looking at his lips.

“Need another go to be sure,” Phil whispers, letting desire override fear for just a moment.

Dan tilts his head and leans in and presses his lips to Phil’s gently. Phil feels his heart literally flip over. He’s never felt anything like it. Dan’s lips are a little rough, a little chapped, but they fit between Phil’s as if they were designed just for this. 

Dan pulls back.

“More,” Phil whispers.

Dan leans in again and places his hand low on the back of Phil’s head, sliding his fingers up into his hair. Phil grips Dan’s shirt and breathes Dan in as their lips meet again, this time with more insistence, more heat. Phil feels Dan’s tongue lick lightly against his lip and warmth spreads down his chest. He opens his mouth and meets Dan’s tongue with his and tastes him.

Eventually they come apart, both with wide sheepish grins stretched across their faces. 

“So?” Dan asks, shaking his hair over his eye in that way Phil loves so much. 

“You taste like caramel machiatto,” Phil says cheekily.

Dan laughs. “So do you.”

Phil reaches a trembling hand up and brushes Dan’s fringe out of his eye. “I love caramel machiattos.”

Dan’s cheeks are rosy and Phil can see a whole lifetime of kisses and giggles and memories in his eyes.

“Me too,” Dan says.

It’s true, Dan tastes like the sweet coffee they’d had earlier, but that’s just the safest thing Phil can think to say right now, because he’s not sure if Dan’s ready to hear the truth. Dan tastes like coffee and sugar and sex and late nights and first times. He tastes like love. 

He tastes like Phil’s future. 

**Author's Note:**

> waveydnp on tumblr :)


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